Chapter 3

~.~.~

They were staring at each other, hearts still beating furiously in their chests as moments ago they had been engaged in a very steamy romp on the sink counter of the prefects bathroom on the fifth floor. Now, they were frozen in place, eyes both wide and full of shock. Hers due to disbelief of what she thought she'd heard, his in disbelief that the words had slipped out of his mouth. He'd always been so good at compartmentalizing. Especially when it came to his feelings about Hermione Granger. But he'd let the words come right out without stopping them. He was still inside of her; could still feel the tightness enclosed around him, but he wasn't moving. The words I love you had freed themselves from his internal thoughts and he was about to deal with the aftermath.

"Wh-what?" Hermione finally stammered out in a whisper, "What did you say?" It couldn't have been what she thought, but if it wasn't, why had he frozen like she did?

He opened his mouth and nothing came out.

"Because what I heard was —."

"I know," he snapped, finding his voice again, "I know what I said. You don't have to repeat it."

He pulled himself back from her and she closed her legs instinctively, reaching for her sweater to cover herself with.

"Fuck," he said under his breath, turning from her, anger rising in his chest at his inability to keep his thoughts in his head instead of ruining this wonderful, meaningless thing they had.

"Why did you say it?" She asked, her voice a bit demanding.

"Fuck," he said again, ignoring her questioning so he could think for a second about how to handle the situation. Should he pretend she'd heard him wrong? Seemed too late for that. Pretend it was no big deal? It already clearly was.

"Malfoy," she prompted him and he turned back, still not looking up fully.

"I didn't mean to say that," he finally got out. It was only a few weeks til graduation now, something he'd been thinking about for a while outside of their weekly meetups. He'd been toying with the idea of suggesting they spend some time together after the school year ended, but hadn't decided how to best word the invitation in a way that was casual, but deliberate.

"Do you — did you mean what you said?" There was an incredulous undertone that she didn't mean to portray, but the shock still hadn't worn off. For all she knew, Malfoy still thought of her as someone that was less than him and was purely using her for some kind of feeling of power. Or something. At least that was the only reason she'd been able to come up with so far as to why he continued their tryst.

He finally lifted his head to meet her eye, his heart hadn't stopped pounding and he tried to make a split second decision. However, at that point it almost didn't matter because he'd hesitated for too long. He gave some version of a half nod and took another step back, feeling a bit light headed.

"Was that a — did you just nod?"

He closed his eyes for a moment to realign, taking a deep breath before he opened them again, "Yes, I meant it," he said in almost a harsh voice, embarrassed, but trying to own it, "I have for a while but I didn't mean for it to come out like that. There, are you happy?"

She just stared at him, mouth opening into a bit of a gape as she processed what he was saying, "You're — in love with me?"

"Well done, good summary," he huffed, looking away again and crossing his arms over his very naked chest.

"Since when?"

"I told you, a while."

"But you don't even really know me, do you? And you certainly wouldn't ever think that I'm good enough for you."

"Know you," he scoffed, "We've spent seven years in the same classes. Of course I do. You wear your heart on your damn sleeve. You're brilliant, even smarter than me I dare say, which is hard to do, you're well-read, you care so much about the people around you, not that I've ever been a part of that circle, but it's clear you do, you've got wittier comebacks than anyone else I've ever sparred with, and you're so bloody confident in who you are. You want to do something good in the world after Hogwarts, something in magical law or politics, which I also have a lot of interest in. Not to mention you're beautiful," although compliments, his words came out with intensity from being bottled up for years, "And then you actually wanted to sleep with me, even if it was just to get back at Weasley, and I had to go and learn that you're even a better fuck in reality than I ever could have imagined. So yeah, I'm in love with you and I don't deserve a second of your time."

Hermione tried to wrap her head around what he was saying, "Where have you been hiding all of these positives thoughts about me for the last 8 years that you've made my life a living hell?"

"I kept them buried deep down because I was not supposed to feel this way. I was not raised to fall for someone like you so I tried to counteract what I felt by being a complete… asshole."

"Yes you certainly did that," she shook her head a few times, "Look Malfoy, I am just caught totally off guard here. What do you want me to take from this?"

He groaned, he hadn't planned it to go like this at all but he couldn't keep being stubborn about it. He tried to soften his voice but it still came out tense, "I know you can't feel the same because the Draco you know hasn't given you any reason to. But if you just… give me the chance to take down my walls," he felt like an idiot even saying the words. He hated being vulnerable, hated acknowledging his feelings, but he fought through it because this was probably the only chance he'd ever get, "Give yourself a chance to get to know me outside of everything else that's happened, maybe you could see the potential that I do. We both already know the passion's there."

Hermione nodded slowly, "But what about your family? What would they say if you dated someone like me?"

Draco felt a momentary uplift at the prospect of her even considering that could happen, although she was probably just trying to think logically about all of the outcomes, "I don't care, Granger," he said simply, rolling with it now that it was out in the open, "My father is in Azkaban and my mother I can deal with."

"And your friends?"

"Can also learn to deal with it," he gave a short laugh, "If you give this a chance, I won't let someone else fuck it up. I might do that on my own," he allowed, "But I wouldn't let someone else get in the way of finally having a shot with you."

She sat there in silence, still looking at a loss for words.

"And how do you feel about me?" He asked with whatever dignity he could muster, "Now that my feelings are out on the table."

She thought for a moment about what she felt with him, "I mean, I enjoy what we have going on," she said rationally, "I look forward to it every week and I'd feel like something was missing if it ended, though I always assumed it would eventually," she pulled her sweater over her head and he grabbed his boxers from the floor to slip them on as he looked around to locate the rest of his clothes, realizing they likely wouldn't be finishing what they had started that evening, "You make me feel good when we're together like this... feminine and wanted in a way that I haven't before. I certainly feel a lot of passion with you. But honestly Malfoy, I don't know who you are. I don't know what you want in life. I don't know what's important to you."

"Are you willing to learn those things about me? Is there even a chance this could ever go somewhere in your mind?" He pulled his sweater on.

"I… don't know," she said honestly, as she stepped off of the counter and across the room to her skirt, where they'd started their activities that evening, "I truly just never thought it would even be a discussion."

"Well how about you think about it and let me know when you're ready to have this discussion," he was keen to end the conversation so he could return to his room and analyze what just happened on this own.

She nodded, hands running through her hair absently, "Alright."

"Great," he buttoned his pants and walked towards the door, "I look forward to hearing from you." With that, he pulled the door open and took a hasty exit, trying to seem as though he was regaining some form of his composure. He passed by a group of first years who were playing exploding snaps in the Entrance Hall, their laughs muffled in his brain as all of his other thoughts started flowing in.

He was almost in denial that it had just happened, though he knew it had. He certainly hadn't handled it well. He felt numb, but what was he supposed to do, there was no way he could have been prepared for it to come out like that. He'd spent eight months keeping his feelings locked tightly away during their evenings together. Eight months staring into her eyes thinking those words without them breaking free. Eight months keeping up the facade of indifference and arrogance towards her. Eight months pretending their time together was nothing more than a convenient arrangement.

"Draco."

Draco blinked a few times as the voice broke through his thoughts, "Evening, Blaise," he tried to be nonchalant.

"What's up with you, mate?" Blaise looked at him with amusement, "I just called your name like five times."

"Just preoccupied at the moment."

"Alright, whatever, don't tell me then. Pansy's hosting a bit of a party tonight in the Room of Requirement, are you going?"

The idea of wasting his time on something so trivial when everything he had wanted for so long was dangling by a string in front of him was almost annoying to even consider, "No, I'm not going."

"She'll be sad to hear that," Blaise clapped him on the shoulder, "Pretty sure she's only throwing it to get your attention. There's only a few weeks left in term and I think she's pulling out all the stops."

"Well my attention is elsewhere," he replied and Blaise grinned at him.

"Were you with Granger tonight?"

Draco just nodded, not wanting to get into it.

"Well you'll have to make up your own excuse for Pansy, I'm not covering for you this time. She's oblivious to the fact that you're seeing someone else."

"Well that is the point of keeping it a secret," Draco said in a huff.

"You're a drag tonight, you know," Blaise drawled as they reached the entrance to the Slytherin common room, "If you like the girl so much just tell her and cut the charade."

Draco stared at him a second in annoyance before responding, "I did tell her."

The pompous look all but fell off of Blaise's face, "Oh. I'm guessing she didn't..."

"It came out accidentally," Draco said quietly, "I'd just like to be alone for a while."

Blaise nodded and Draco walked into the common room, passing by some of their other friends who were sitting on the couches without a word.

~.~.~

Hermione pulled the hangings around her bed closed as she lay back and stared at the canopy overhead. Draco Malfoy was in love with her. The words sounded insane. He'd never so much as said a nice sentence to her with the obvious exception of the all the things he'd said that evening. She tried to think back and remember any inklings she'd ever had that there might be more than met the eye with their encounters, but it was all so skewed by what she thought she knew.

She put that to the side and tried to think back to that evening in the Hogs Head when he'd first confronted her because it was the longest conversation they'd probably ever had. Unfortunately, she had also been decently inebriated for their interaction as well, so the details were foggy at best. She closed her eyes tightly, pulling from deep in her memories at whatever she could. At least the first part of their conversation she hadn't been quite as drunk.

He'd seemed surprised to see her there, especially to see her there alone and hadn't wasted time taking the seat next to her at the bar and ordering himself a firewhiskey; which certainly was not his first of the night either. There were only a few other patrons spread haphazardly around the bar so they'd had the privilege of a private conversation at least. She remembered he had snidely asked where 'Weasley' was because she'd laughed shrilly and spilled her drink as he said the name. She'd told him exactly what she'd found Ron doing as the bartender refilled her glass and Draco had looked shocked, but she'd noticed his demeanor changed after that from snide to indignant to almost scornful towards Ron. Not that he didn't deserve it. She remembered rambling about how much it hurt and how Ron could shove something right where he'd feel it and Draco had let her ramble until she'd realized she had been.

She remembered that whatever conversation happened after that had been long as their drinks began to add up. She could picture snippets of intense words from the blonde haired boy about the war, though she couldn't remember how it came up or what he had said, just that she'd been focused on paying attention in the moment. She remembered feeling embarrassed about responding with her own personal stories from that time and expecting him to make fun of her, though she distinctly remembered he hadn't.

She remembered a bit more clearly the later part of the evening because it had sparked a bit of shock when he'd turned their conversation in another direction. She could almost still hear Draco whispering in her ear about how Ron would feel about his own cock being the first one inside of her instead of Ron's and how sometimes anger translated seamlessly to passion if she wanted to try and relieve herself of some of those pesky emotions. He'd ran his hand up her leg and told her Ron would realize what he was missing out on one day but it wasn't worth her time to dwell on him. Better to get revenge by moving on. Perhaps with his sworn enemy. Something to really hit him where it hurts.

He'd been smooth and persuasive and she remembered blushing, but also how a small part of her resonated with the idea of having revenge sex with Malfoy to get back at Ron. She'd been angry and it had been a thrilling idea she'd never considered because it wasn't in her nature to want to hurt someone else. But the war had changed her perspective on some things in life and she'd realized she didn't have to be perfect or good all the time. She was allowed to be human. She was allowed to make decisions for herself no matter what the motive or consequences. If it was a mistake, who gave a shit. Everyone was self serving at the root of it.

She'd never slept with anyone before, always assuming Ron would be her first, but the thought that it could be Malfoy had made her feel some very unexpected things deep down within. It was a feeling akin to guilt and intrigue and excitement. He was attractive, of course, she'd never deny him that, but there was something between them she'd always associated with hate that she was finding a way to spin in her mind as passion as he sat there next to her, their bodies closer than they'd ever been before. She'd been the one to suggest they leave the bar together and get to it, but he'd told her it would have to wait until she made that decision sober. He'd kissed her right there, his lips brushing hers in the most tantalizingly unfair way, and then he'd gotten up and left. She remembered the beating of her heart in her chest and waking up the next morning trying to decide if it had been real. She'd spent a good part of the next week trying to convince herself not to do it, but her curiosity in Malfoy's interest, mixed with the constant visions of Ron and Millicent together that met her every time her eyes closed had solidified her decision. She'd sent Draco an owl the following weekend to 'discuss their previous conversation' and the rest was history.

She wished she could remember the details in between; what they had talked about for hours at that bar, but she couldn't unfog it in her memory.

Her thoughts turned to their time together over the last eight months. There were certainly times that he was affectionate. He certainly cared that she always left happy. Maybe the reason there was so much passion behind his kiss was because there were real feelings in them. But could she ever see past all of the things he had said and done in the past? Was there really more to him than the arrogant jerk, the literal Death Eater she'd known for eight years? Was it really all a defensive front he put up?

She couldn't deny her pleasure in the time they spent together. And now that she thought about it, there had been a few times he'd tried to talk to her about something other than their next meeting as they put themselves back together afterwards, conversation about classes and current political news that likely would have piqued her interest if she didn't assume he wanted nothing to do with her and was simply filling the void of awkward silence. There was that one time he'd pulled her into a classroom after Potions just to snog and ask if she'd be at Hogwarts over break. She hadn't thought any more of it then because she just assumed he didn't want to go three weeks without getting some, but maybe he'd wanted a reason to spend time together.

She thought about the way he kissed her each time before he would pull out of her. He'd always cup her cheek and press his lips to hers in a different way than he did while they were having sex. During, it was always hungry and wanting, possessive even. After, it was almost sweet and tender. Though she just figured that was just something he did no matter who he was with. But maybe it wasn't. Maybe that was his way of telling her something without saying the words.

She sighed heavily, closing her eyes. She just needed some distance from him. She needed to have a Draco-free couple of weeks to decide if she missed him and what it was she missed. She needed to think about what it would mean for her to really give him a chance and how that would even work.

~.~.~

They were days from graduating and Draco hadn't heard from her at all. He thought maybe she'd send an owl the next week, but it never came. Nor did it come the week after that… or after that. And now it was Wednesday, N.E.W.T.s were over, celebrations were beginning, and the unsettling feeling that she'd decided her life was easier without him was creeping in.

He was sitting in the Slytherin common room, students talking excitedly around him as he stared into the fire, a half-full glass of firewhiskey gripped between his fingers. He couldn't stop thinking about their conversation in the Hogs Head. They'd talked for hours about the war. He'd told her his allegiance to the Dark Lord had waivered the moment he'd come face to face with Dumbledore and realized the impact of what he was supposed to do. He told her he knew right then he didn't have it in him and that he didn't want any part of the Death Eaters, but it was simply too late to turn back. He told her about Lucius cracking day by day under the pressures of the Dark Lord and the fall of his family from grace. He told her how hopeless he'd felt seeing them turn up at Malfoy Manor, knowing they'd all be dead if he tried to oppose his aunt. He'd told her he hoped the Order would win in the end and that he hadn't wanted to leave their side during the Battle of Hogwarts. He'd only wanted his wand back from Potter.

She'd told him about obliviating her parents to erase her from their lives; about sending them away to Australia never to be found. She'd told him she knew he didn't want to leave their side, they all knew it. She'd forgiven him, right there at the bar, for his part in it. She'd looked him in the eye and told him she didn't think he was evil; just a prat. Fair.

They'd talked for hours about the war and their families and what they wanted to do now that it was all over. She'd told him she felt a coldness within herself when the final battle ended that she was still coping with and he had told her he'd felt something like that his whole life.

He doubted she remembered most of it, she'd been drinking quite heavily before he even arrived. He had been as well, but he held it much better than she did. The way she'd proclaimed she was done with Weasley and the way she had laughed at something he had said had given him hope that perhaps she'd consider another option. And by the end of the evening, the alcohol in his system had given him the courage he had needed to, smoothly, give her a few other suggestions as to how to get back at him. She'd been shocked and actually a bit outraged at first, and then as the suggestion had settled in and she realized he was serious, she had warmed up to the idea rather quickly. He knew he couldn't have her when she'd been drinking, however. He'd wanted her for too long to let it be a drunken mistake she could shrug off. He wanted her to come to him. Sober and willing. And she had.

Pansy dropped down into his lap, pulling him from his thoughts and he sighed, looking up into the girls gleaming blue eyes, her black hair falling heavily down her back.

"Having a party by yourself over here?" She asked in a quiet voice, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"No, Pansy," he said, annoyed, "Just enjoying a nice glass of firewhisky." He unwrapped her arms and gestured for her to move onto the open seat next to him, as opposed to on his lap and she rolled her eyes, but obliged, not wanting to bring attention to his dismissal.

"Well you looked like you could use some company, either way. You've been distant the last few weeks, Draco."

They used to be equals, he and Pansy, but she'd fallen for him some time ago and was now incapable of taking the hint that he wasn't interested. He tried to be nice about it, she'd been his friend for a long time, but he'd certainly grown tired of the act, "I've got my mind of bigger things than life at Hogwarts," he took a sip of his drink before standing from the couch and leaving the common room for his dormitory, Pansy staring distraughtly after him. When he arrived, he saw his owl at the window. He set his drink on the bedside table, walking briskly over and taking the parchment from the owl, closing the window in a rush and sitting down on his bed, the owl pecking rather angrily on the glass. His heart was beating fast. It could be a rejection. Maybe she didn't even want to see him to talk. He groaned at the scenario his own mind had made up before he unrolled it, reading the words.

Draco,

Meet me tonight at 9pm in the restricted section of the library.

HG

He set the parchment down next to him and lay back on his bed. Tonight, he would get his answer.

~.~.~